


Paroxysm

by discombobulation



Series: the final frontier (isn’t as great as it seems) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Relationships, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Sheith is literally the only hinted relationship, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, agender pidge, besodes that everything's pretty platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7711309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discombobulation/pseuds/discombobulation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1. n:<br/>any sudden, violent outburst; a fit of violent action or emotion</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paroxysm

**Author's Note:**

> ...Yep. I wrote this. And I'm proud, I guess. Not a lot of dialogue, but that isn't anything too strange for my writing style. 
> 
> I might make this fic have a sister, I don't know yet. It's 2 am, and I have work and school tomorrow. Kill me now. Not going with 'canon' ages, adjusted them a little bit to fit my liking a bit better, oops. I think the only one that's majorly different is Pidge's, but what can one do.

Keith always knew that others, while they didn't hate him, were jealous and envious of him. He just shrugged it off, though, proclaiming it to be an idiotic idealism that would pass over in a few days, at most a week. He was an orphaned and homeless cadet, there wasn't anything redeemable about him except his skill to fly, and even he believed he always had space to improve, ignoring the fact that his officers placed him on a pedestal, proclaiming him to be another Shirogane. But he really wasn't. He lacked the charisma, the will, to converse with his fellow cadets, to talk to them and make friends, to put him at the top of his class in leadership skills. People were never his thing, though, so he left that to Lance, and his friend Hunk, shrugging off any attempts others made to try and get into his graces to be his teammates. As the year progressed, people slowly stopped talking to him, leaving him to his own devices, which he was thankful for. Now he could practice flying and martial arts in peace, and talk in Korean without being ridiculed that he was in America, and expected to speak English at every moment.

At least, the peace lasted until he turned seventeen, where the legendary Shirogane was chosen to mentor him. Shirogane, who preferred to be called Shiro, he had said, was the complete opposite from Keith, but there was no doubt about his abilities.

 

"Keith, right?" The twenty-one year old said as he approached Keith, right after one of Iverson's famous lectures and over-displaying of Keith's flying 'prowess'. "I'm Takashi Shirogane, though most people call me Shiro, and I guess I'm your new mentor..." His words faded slowly at Keith's signature blank-stare, fidgeting slightly as the hand he had brought up for a shake fell down to his side. He cleared his throat, a more confident smile appearing on his face as he motioned for Keith to follow him to the gym. "Not much of a talker, huh? First I'd thought we should talk about ourselves, but I can see you would prefer to spar or fly instead." Keith followed after the officer, not making any comment, but the obvious tension in his shoulders relaxed slightly as he trudged silently behind the male, silence falling uncomfortably between the two as Shiro struggled to make any sense of this cadet. Most would be bouncing around, acting as if he wasn't an officer of almost two years, throwing question after question until even he got irritated. But this long-haired cadet barely gave him a glance. It wasn't like he was acting better than Shiro, more like he knew Shiro was his superior. Or he just really didn't care about who he just got for his mentor. Not to sound conceited, but Shiro was the best. And he, as much as he hates to say it, wasn't used to being treated like his scores and accomplishments didn't matter.

The duo made their way into the almost completely abandoned gym, the other mentors deciding that they would rather talk to their pupils than get right into training, which is honestly what Shiro would prefer, but he figured he wouldn't get far in that direction, no matter if he meant well or not. Shiro noticed how Keith became seemingly more confident when they entered the gym, filing that away to use later as he lead them into the center of a mat, turning towards the raven-haired male, smiling softly at him.

"Want to spar hand-to-hand?" Keith nodded, blinking slightly from the radiance of Shiro's smile, unused to truly positive attention. While his officers talked highly of him, it was only to alienate him from the other cadets, to make it so he could only turn to the Garrison for help and advice. It was a lonely existence, but not much different from his life before enlisting, so it didn't bother him much, the monotonous routine differing greatly from his electric and violent personality.

The two adopted fighting stances, circling each other with hawk-like gazes. Soon, Keith tired of just circling around each other, rushing forward and feigning a hit to the older male's chest before ducking down, swiping at his knees. Shiro had to admit, Keith was fast, and straight to the point with his fighting. Shiro quickly side-stepped Keith, pivoting around to a kick on the smaller male's chest. Keith flipped around, collecting his breath as he got up quickly and ran at Shiro, flinging a fist at his cheek before spinning around to kick his exposed side. Shiro grunted at the force of the kick, staggering slightly as he launched off his own punch into Keith's stomach, the male not reacting much beside lurching forward before trying to kick him again. He grabbed Keith's foot, wincing slightly as the raven-head brought his other foot up, crushing his wrist between his ankles as he yanked himself out of Shiro's grip, rolling backwards onto his knees as they both took a moment to recover. Unbeknownst to the duo, other mentor groups were standing behind the glass windows, watching silently with mouths agape as the two best students sparred.

This time, Shiro launched himself forward, striking Keith in the jaw as the other landed a winding kick right into his stomach. They grappled for a few moments before Shiro grabbed both of Keith's arms, who, in retaliation, brought up both his legs to kick Shiro in the chest and flip away from him. Expecting this, Shiro came at Keith, throwing another punch against his cheek as he twisted his arm behind him, kicking Keith to his knees as Shiro fell with him, both panting heavily for a few moments as they recovered.

"I win." Shiro whispered breathily into Keith's ear, letting go of him to stand up, helping his pupil stand. Suddenly, there were cheers coming from outside as people regained their senses from the close fight. Shiro smiled and waved as different mentor groups started to wonder off, Keith standing quietly behind him until everyone had left. Shiro turned around, mouth open to speak, but closed as he noticed Keith fidgeting slightly.

"That.. that was a good fight," he mustered up, before clearing his throat awkwardly, offering his hand with a nervous gaze. "I'm... I'm Keith Kogane. It's nice to meet you, Takashi Shirogane." Shiro paused for a second, blinking before letting out a hearty laugh, clamping Keith's hand firmly, warm gray eyes meeting cold and slightly nervous violet eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Keith Kagone."

 

After that, everything seemed to be touched by the light known as Shiro. No longer did Keith wake up to expired, soapy water getting poured into his mouth until he started choking, or to someone trying to slip a scorpion under his pillow. Now it was either soft shaking, or the blaring of the alarm that Shiro insisted on due to both of their terrible sleeping habits and willingness to sleep in. They grew, both as friends and as people. Keith was introduced to Matt Holt, who he didn't warm up to fast, but they eventually bonded over their disapproval of Shiro's lack of REM cycles, as Matt had put it, and their genuine love to tinker with machines. Keith started opening up more, even to people he didn't care much for, and soon Shiro's twenty-second birthday was on them. As was his departure for Kerberos, the farthest unexplored territory in their system, and he was leaving days before his birthday, so Keith hatched a plan to celebrate. While he may not be mentored by Shiro anymore, the mentor program only lasting three months due to most officers getting deployed off somewhere, or the student dropping out. But, enough with that, Keith thought to himself, it's time for his plan to be put into action.

"Hey, Shiro." Keith called out as Shiro opened the door into his room, twisting onto his stomach to look out over towards the older male, a smile ghosting itself on his lips as the other closed the door, sighing audibly as it clicked shut, slumping against it. It was around ten-thirty, so Keith couldn't blame the man, who taught multiple high level classes during the day, for being tired and feeling obligated to come and see why his closest friend wanted to see him, especially when his Kerberos mission was going to take off in two days. "Sorry to have you so late..." He trailed off, ignoring the light shakes his stomach had when Shiro gave him the most tender and genuine smile, the smile he always received but lately had made his stomach curl up with embarrassment and slight heat to gather at his ears.

"Don't worry about it, Keith, I enjoy spending time with you, and I'm not needed until afternoon tomorrow to test run everything, so I am going to sleep a lot anyways," Shiro assured, moving closer into the small room and sitting onto Keith's bed, lifting up the boy's feet and setting them on his lap, snorting as Keith rolled onto his back and propped himself up with his pillow leaning against the blank wall. Keith frowned slightly as he gave Shiro a hard look, sighing in defeat at the innocent look he received in response.

"Well, since your dumb ass had to get one of the most dangerous missions and be deployed before your birthday, I decided to surprise you with something badass." Getting up, Keith grabbed Shiro's hand, dragging him off the bed and out of the room, ignoring Shiro's quiet but firm complaints, a giddiness and slight worry rumbling about his brain, worst case scenarios coming to mind as he quietly mulled over whether this was a good plan or if he should have listened to Matt and gone with a simpler gift, preferably less illegal, as the short male put it, rolling his eyes at Keith's insistence. But bygones will be bygones, and if Shiro does end up getting mad, well, he can suffer a whole year, wallowing in his own guilt as he waits to apologize. Shiro felt a smile pull his lips, watching the younger male with a soft look he found that he reserved just for the spitfire known as Keith, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad about it. It was odd, at first, watching someone with Keith's cold exterior become a purring mess when you rub a certain part of his head, and when he laughs at a lame pun you made for the first time. But it also would fill you with warmth, an essence so pure that you couldn't help but marvel in the show of untamed emotion.

As Shiro quietly marveled over the spitfire known as Keith, he failed to notice where said boy was dragging him, coughing as wind blew a lungful of sand straight into his somewhat-gaping mouth and wide eyes. "Keith-" He sputtered, blinking rapidly as sand coated the very inner-workings of his throat with scratching dryness. All Keith did in response was huff out a laugh into the deep maroon bandanna covering his mouth, protecting him from the unforgiving desert sands. He dragged the older boy to a large outcropping, a good three hundred meters away from the outermost garrison gate.

"Close your eyes." Keith instructed, turning slightly to block the older boy's view as much as he possibly could, Shiro having a good four inches and fifty pounds of unaltered muscle over Keith. He let out a short laugh at the almost pout on Keith's face, covering his eyes with an exaggerated sigh and shrug, slowly pulling his hand against closing eyes, almost pausing at the insufferable look on his face, but Shiro didn't want to seem uninterested, so he refrained, tensing slightly as Keith grabbed at Shiro's right hand, gently tugging him along, voice soft when warning him about rocks or tumbleweeds. As suddenly as he was ordered to cover his eyes, they stopped, Keith pushing Shiro into a spot before smiling as he crossed his arms behind his back, bouncing from one foot to the other.

"Okay," he said softly, placing himself behind Shiro slightly, voice shy. "You can open your eyes now." And so, he did. And predominately turned around and smacked Keith over the head, happiness and exasperation battling for control over his face.

"Really Keith? Where did you get a hover bike from? How did you even afford one?" Keith just gave a small smile, motioning for Shiro to follow after him, standing next to the dulled down red painted machine, fidgeting nervously. Shiro sighed, shaking his head fondly before walking after Keith, swinging himself onto the machine, pulling Keith on after him. "Well, I assume being able to fly one of these babies before I leave is my present." Keith nods shyly, wrapping his arms around Shiro loosely, hiding a smile in the other's back. Shiro smiled ahead, turning on and revving the engine before speeding off, the two riding in companionable silence, just the roar of the engine and natural sounds of night.

 

Keith was ecstatic, face donned in a grin. That night was almost too successful. He would forever treasure the words they spoke in hush whispers and small actions forever engraved in his brain as they made their way back into the garrison, quietly seeing each other off. He was suddenly grateful for the bandanna now, knowing it was likely hiding his flushed face and worried expression. After all, Shiro was leaving him, but he was definitely going to come back, right?

Right?

\---

Pilot error.  
Pilot error.  
Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error. Pilot error.  
Simple fucking pilot error.

Keith wanted to scream. Why won't anyone just stop? Why did they keep blaming it on Shiro?

Shiro isn't dead. Can't be dead. He promised. He promised he would come back. He's going to come back.  
Shiro isn't dead. Shiro isn't dead. Shiro isn't dead.

A voice whispered that Shiro is dead. He ignored it, stuffing the thought to the deepest, most self-loathing pit in his mind.

He couldn't help but think about the night before the launch of the Kerberos shuttle launch.

_They were sparring, fists meeting with alternating harsh and soft hits, careful to not cause serious damage, but forceful enough to stutter a breath, pause a movement, flash a smile, the works. They both were skilled, beautifully so, moving as long-time dancers with their best partner, moving to a tune only they could hear as skin made contact with skin and cloth. Shiro was always the heavier hitter, often bruising Keith much worse than how hard he hit him, always guilty eyed with the signature kicked puppy look. Keith, however, was fast, instinctual, always willing to sacrifice some part of him to win. Shiro had tried, at first, to scold the habit out of him, refusing to spe or help him with his homework, but he quickly would get jealous when Keith went to ask Matt or even their communications specialist, Anya, and would grab Keith and storm away from the sniggering duo, grumpily helping Keith out._

_It was a night like no other, except it wasn't. Tension was riddled throughout the dorm, people shuffling both nervously and excitedly as they counted down from hours to the very seconds or the Kerebos launch. It was stressful, and Shiro just wanted to be away from it all, and of course Keith caught on to how Shiro felt about being bombarded with congratulations and jealous stares and concerned gazes. Keith always seemed to know how Shiro felt, especially when it was something negative. And so, Keith had guided Shiro to the hover bike, allowing him to drive it, speeding through the desert as they escaped the tension of everything, leaving it for tomorrow as they fall into eachother, stablizing their Choatic minds as they lay on the ground, string up at the stars, shoulders just inches too close to be normal for friends, but too far to be called lovers._

_"Do you want to talk about it?" Keith asked, unusually forward, voice quiet as he spoke into the settling air, lungs heavy with dust and slight humidity, the earliest signs of a building storm, one that wouldn't come for days, maybe even weeks. Shiro had shaken his head in response, gazing up at the stars as he named them off in his head wth their Japanese names, finding new ones to ask about and ones all too recognizable. Keith shrugged at his response, settling just a little closer to slightly intertwine his cold fingers with the warmth of Shiro's. Keith had always been a tactile person, but numerous reactions and betrayals and injuries had made him protect that one good part of him, hiding it away for someone truly worth it, someone who wouldn't mind his relatively cold body, his need for touch and approval and praise. And Shiro was perfect for him in that matter, always receptive to touches as long as they weren't too curious. They sat like that for moments before Shiro spoke._

_"I'm worried, Keith." He spoke, muffled slightly as he looked down, angling the bottom of his face into his riding scarf. "I'm worried about messing up; I'm worried about dissapointing Matt and Professor Holt; I'm… I'm worried about leaving you." He confessed as subtle as he could, cheeks going aflame as Keith looked up at him with those big, violet eyes, always so cold yet understanding. All the raven-haired male did was nod in understanding, pausing for a moment before cautiously moving into Shiro's chest, clinging to him with the desperation of someone who found something they didn't know they needed but want more of a fix. They didn't kiss. They silently agreed that road would best be crossed when Shiro was home and Keith had graduated and done his own graduation mission. Instead they shared soft words and body heat into the late night, Shiro giving Keith a ring his Obaa-chan had given to him, quietly promising to never leave Keith alone ever again._

_They didn't know this would be their last time seeing each other for almost a year._

They kicked him out of the garrison barely days after the announcement.

He didn't care. Shiro was gone, and no one wasn't trying to find him, trying to gain closure. Except, maybe, Katie, who was at the entrance of the Garrison when he was thrown out, face angry and tears in her eyes as she demanded to know what happened to her father and brother. They both knew Shiro wouldn't have made a simple pilot error, it wasn't a Shiro thing to do, especially with people he considered family also being put at risk.

His heart and head hurts. It's almost like a taunting reminder of all the foster families he's lost. A reminder of his mother walking away shortly after he turned one. A reminder of his father disappearing when he was four, no one thinking to look for him for almost three weeks. Until it was almost too late.

Keith hasn't spoken since he left. He hasn't slept or ate very much, either, and it showed, his already skinny frame thinning to sharper angles and eyes once bright with eternal fire now dulled with infecting grief and exhaustion. He didn't care. His life has no reason now that the sun he was thrown into orbit for is gone. His childhood shack was more than enough for him. Fixing it helped distracted him, not for long, though. Now he just flies around on his hover bike, staying well away from garrison territory, anger still burning bright and hot like a flame desperate to destroy a building. No one has bothered to try and find him. He doesn't know whether to cry at that, or count it as a blessing in disguise.

The desert has something that he's drawn towards. He doesn't mind the work he has to do, despite having to go into the desolate little town's bookstore to buy mechanic books of all kinds. The old lady running the shop always gives him at least one book free, along with some kind of pastry to see him off with. He never eats it, but he appreciates the gesture. He's built multiple little machines, mostly made to track signals that only he seems to know how to receive. He reads about how to update his hover bike, giving it more firepower and flexibility, but having to downsize the main cockpit to fit two people instead of the normal three or four standard. He doesn't care.

He couldn't help but start to believe the voice in his head saying Shiro was dead. If he paid it too much attention, he would throw up whatever was in his stomach, head pounding with terrible pounds as he struggled to shove the voice back down. He couldn't help but hate and blame himself a little bit more every time the voice wins.

He was planning on packing up and leaving town when his machines started going crazy, indicating that something similar to whatever he's been looking for. So, he grab's his father's knife, and glances outside, spying a burning red and purple ball crash down. Near the garrison. Dizzy with the sudden input of go, go, go, he grabbed explosives that he's been developing, hoping to be able to booby trap the shack against anyone who would try to squat there once he left for good. And so, he hopped onto his bike and sped out towards the garrison for the first time in almost eleven months, face covered and bombs ready to be placed.

He didn't expect to see Shiro, and he didn't expect three idiot tag-a-longs from the Garrison, but he elected to complain later, knowing that only Shiro mattered at that moment. Shiro was the mission. The two loud ones and the one who suspiciously looks like Matt Holt — _god he hasn't thought about Matt in forever_ — could beat it later, after Shiro is safe, after he's sure that he wasn't too hurt — though from the state of his arm and face, he feared what he would see at later times. Even with the cargo pilot - Lance? Chance? - screaming in his ear and the little Not Matt Holt clinging to his back, they made it fairly safe to his little shack. He made the big guy carry Shiro into his bedroom, pulling out some of Shiro's clothes he stole from the Garrison before he was kicked out, easing the wrinkles out of them before gently folding them next to Shiro, shooing the cadets out of his room, the cargo pilot and the big guy - Hunk, if he recalled - complained loudly while Pidge just shrugged before eyeing Shiro critically, slipping out of the room with silent steps, being courteous enough to shut the door after them.

Realization struck that 'Pidge' was actually Katie Holt, which is why he was struck with unfurling emotions when he saw them. He tucked that information away for later, knowing that they would bring it up later when they were comfortable with it. And it was obvious the two idiots didn't know, so he would stay quiet, for both of their sanities.

Keith held a hand to Shiro's forehead, checking for any inconsistencies in his temperature before sliding his hand up, swiping away the shock of white bangs away, revealing a troubled, but restful, face, seemingly aged years despite being one for not even one. Keith felt emotions rise up, hot and twirling and ready to overwhelm him as he struggled to shove them down. Keith didn't expect to be flung into an intergalactic war between a killer alien race and giant, magical lions that forms a super weapon of mass destruction. He just wanted to stay in his little shack, hide away happily for the rest of his days with Shiro, try and help him. Instead he received Galra and Atleans and whoever else who calls for their help and no time to talk to Shiro about their budding relationship. But he finally has a family, with Allura and Coran and Pidge and Hunk and fuck, even _Lance_. Of course, everything has to come crashing down on him, for his name is Keith Kagone, a child destined to experience pain and disaster.

\--

He blinks.  
"--ith, do y-- Kei-- lease answ--"  
_‘Open your eyes,’_ a strangely masculine voice roars in his head, not his own, but also _his_. Keith followed the directions fruitlessly, cringing at the light permeating into his eyes, tears escaping his eyes as he struggles to pull in a breath.

Why was he struggling to breathe? He couldn't remember. His head hurt. Why does everything hurt? He blink a few more times, whimpering at every jolt his body made, blurry vision morphing into something he would assume would come out of a horror movie. His legs were twisted, shrapnel from the inner workings of his lion crashing down onto and peircing into his legs, and pressing against his chest, falling farther and harder onto him with each desperate breath he took. He felt something trickle down his forehead which he instinctively understood was blood, despite being unable to touch or see it. But when you're acquainted with one kind of injury, you're acquainted with them all.

He was trapped, with no way to move or see, no way to know how long he was out or where the hell he even was. He frowned at that thought, eyebrows furrowing as he thought about it. Who was he...? He was Keith Kagone. Red Paladin, right arm of the legendary robot defender, Voltron. And he was going to die. He closed his eyes, ignoring the desperate roars and groans coming from inside his head, groaning as he felt his chapped lips open, blood welling up on the dried extremities. He was so tired, despite being out for so long. It wouldn't hurt for him to take a cat nap, right? The pain was intoxicating, and he knew sleep would likely make it all go away. So he closed his eyes and slept.

Days felt like hours and hours felt like seconds. He had no idea how long he was drifting in his unstable consciousness. He knew he was in his Lion, but he didn't know if there was someone else, someone masculine, someone reeking of wisdom and experience but also of desperation. He knew that he lost feeling in his legs days ago. He didn't know how to feel about the voices of his teammates - would it be appropriate to refer to them as former teammates? - speaking into the comms, voices broken up and scattered, sentences fragmented and words garbled. He felt for sure that he hallucinated the masculine voice that seemed to echo from everywhere, but the frantic voices told him not to be too leery over that little tidbit. Every day was a mix of his consciousness and unconsciousness merging together. His dreams were vivid, and more often than not were nightmares of him being left behind by those he reluctantly considered his family.

Shiro had been in a constantly panicked state for the week and a half since he was first found after being flung from his lion after his battle with Haggar and the fight for Allura's retreival. He was the first that the Atleans had found, with Hunk and Lance following, Pidge close after the two, all of them found within the first week, just days after Shiro, all on hospitable and habitable planets with helpful creatures who had treated their wounds and helped with repays. And they had found everyone in relatively good condition. Well, except Keith. Keith who was all alone, possibly horrifically injured after his fight with Zarkon, with a 'dead' lion, floating to wherever's gravity held on the strongest. A week and a half with no sign of the Red Paladin or his Lion. A week and a half with Shiro remembering everything between him and Keith, remember their last day together before this all started, the day before Kerebos.

So when they caught wind of the Red Lion's coordinates after almost a week and a half, everyone was glad to see him finally pass out in the lounge, Pidge slipping sound-blocking earphones onto him and wrapping him with a soft Arusian blanket that they had reserved from the little aliens in gratitude. Everyone on the ship unanimously agreed to leave their exhausted leader to rest, promised to wake him at least an hour before they arrived at Keith's coordinates, which were at the farthest part of the solar system he was in, upon an inhabitable planet not due to lack of oxygen, but lack of water and deadly viruses the airborne dust particles carried with them, killing every foreign creature that tried to capture and enslave the planet.

The travel to the planet, which took around ten hours, went faster than the Paladins expected, everyone preparing different parts of the ship for their landing and Keith's retreival. Coran insisted on making a feast, and for once Hunk had left him, instead moving into the infirmary and checking on the MediPods, updating and tweaking little things to make sure, just in case, they would be ready for Keith. Allura had told them that it was the consciousness of the Lion itself responding to Allura's messages, each Paladin understanding that they should prepare for Keith being in a poor situation.

Allura was worried, and rightfully so. Red, while being helpful in _providing_ their location, refused to answer any question about his state, or Keith's state, saying that they just needed to focus on retreiving Keith, and that they shouldn't hurry no matter their conditions, because hurrying could cause more problems in getting there faster. _‘It's ok,’_ the Red Lion had growled into the comms, _‘I trust in my Paladin, and I trust in you all. You will not allow anything bad to happen to my Paladin, and he wouldn't give up until he knew he was safe. Do not fret, Princess. Worry for him when you get here; don't hinder the mission with your emotions.’_ The Lion's words hadn't helped her anxiety over Keith's wellbeing at all, but she supposed that Red was right: focusing on getting there is what Keith needed. He didn't need them panicked prematurely over his condition, especially if his over-protective lion thought him in well enough shape to wait a few more hours for his impending rescue. Looking back on it, she shouldn't have trusted the lion. Her father had told her about denial behavior, a sort of behavior the lions had shown when their previous Paladins had passed, but she had forgotten the behavior, too caught up in her trust of Keith's stubbornness and the calmness of Red.

 

Oh god, why hadn't Allura warned them?

Shiro had tears in his eyes, looking at the mangled wreckage of the once glorious Red Lion. It had a weak particle barrier flickering around it, collapsing the moment Lance touched it, a wounded noise leaving Hunk's throat as Pidge brought a hand up to their helmet, a strangled noise escaping their throat and into the comms. Lance was a stiff as a board, back stock straight with silent tears gathering in his eyes. With a grunt from Shiro, they all moved closer to the lion's mouth, it's eyes flickering blue for a moment before opening just enough for them all to fit on with a little bit of extra space, before powering down again. The inside of the lion was dark, random spurts of electricity and quintessence showing them the path to the cockpit, broken shrapnel revealing wires and the innermost piping of the lion.

Hunk screamed when they saw the mess that was Keith. His legs were twisted and trapped between a large piece of shrapnel that also rested onto his chest, lightly cutting into his legs and stomach with sharp edges as Keith breathed noisily from where he was trapped in his seat, helmet crushed slightly on one part, noticeably cutting into his head as he shifted and whimpered. Shiro and Hunk, being the strongest of the quintet, moved forward, tasking Pidge and Lance with clearing a decent path for Shiro to carry Keith. Shiro knelt on one knee, gently trying to gain the delusional pilots attention with no success, only receiving inellilgble giggles and mum kings in response to what he hope we're comforting words. With a nod towards Hunk, he got up and prepared to lift the shrapnel off him.

Keith screamed into consciousness, which was one of the worst noises the group never wanted to hear again. Blood welled out of his throat and mouth, dripping out of his chapped lips with every harsh exhale, eyes wide with pain and delirium. Hunk had started crying, backing away once they discarded the shrapnel, soft sobs escaping his lips as he left Shiro to gather up his broken Keith.

Suddenly, Keith started thrashing in Shiro's arms, desperate sobs leaving his throat as he tried to scream around the blood and pain.

"Leave me alone-!" He screamed out, eyes clenched as red and clear tears sped down his face, broken sobs leaving his cracked and bloody lips. "Just leave me alone-! Stop please, make it stop. Please please _stop_." Shiro felt his heart shatter at the words Keith had yelled, gently clutching the teary and unconscious male to his chest, unaware of the tears slipping down his face as he nodded at his team, everyone running for the exit as Lance alerted Allura that they and the lion were ready to be picked up, and that they needed a pod and emergency table prepared stat.

"We aren't sure if there's metal still inside of him, and I don't think that the MedPods can remove that kind of stuff while healing him," He had explained, voice thick with tears as he snuffled into his comm, one hand clinging to Hunk as he kept the other on Shiro's shoulder, grounding him to reality as he shifted the male in his arms. Shiro had decided then, as they waited for the Atleans to get them, that he would never leave Keith alone, not would he ever, _ever_ let Keith experience pain like that ever again, even if it kills Shiro to protect him. He would be fine with dying for Keith. In his mind, Keith deserves someone that would be willing to stay with and protect him after being abandoned so many times in his life. And so, Shiro promised to always be there until he couldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this took me almost a month to write. Fuck yeah. 
> 
> There's probably some formatting problems, I wrote all of this on my phone and I have dyslexia so that helps. 
> 
> Un-betaed. Any mistake is mine.  
> This has a pretty ambiguous ending, completely on purpose, as well. Might actually get a sequel where we delve into the Galra!Keith theory, but might just be standalone. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are my life blood.


End file.
